It never rains, but it pours
by bloodmagik
Summary: Work has been hectic, what with the Governor insisting on having a reporter shadow them for 48 hours. As if that wasn't bad enough, the girl they sent isn't the brightest crayon in the box and Steve's feeling a little bit delicate. Cue one massive headache for Gracie's favourite uncle when the reporter manages to find her way into the middle of Steve's murder investigation.
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

**Summary: **_Work has been hectic, what with the Governor insisting on having a reporter shadow them for 48 hours. As if that wasn't bad enough, the girl they sent isn't the bright crayon in the box and Steve's feeling a little bit delicate. Cue one massive headache for Gracie's favourite adopted uncle when the reporter somehow manages to find her way into the middle of Steve's murder investigation._

**A/N:** I _loved_ the episode where they had that talk show host following Five-0 around for a day. I've had great fun playing around with it to make it fit in with what I've got planned for Steve.  
This is set around the beginning of season 2. Catherine is still based overseas and there's no Joe White or Lori. Mary will probably make an appearance because I love her quirkiness, and I think it's about time she stepped up to the plate.

**A/N 2:** A huge thank you to the lovely Irishlass07 for offering her services as beta. I really appreciate it.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing to do with Hawaii Five-0 except seasons 1-3 on DVD. I'm not a doctor so, as always, anything medical should be taken with a pinch of salt.

_Reviews and __constructive criticism are always welcome (even if it's just "Wow, I actually made it to the end of that without falling asleep"). _:)

* * *

_Thursday, 0807 hours._

The sharp, staccato sound of knuckles knocking against glass drew Steve's attention away from the mind-numbing acquisition form he had been in the middle of filling in. Thankful for the distraction, he motioned to the person to enter and leaned back in his chair, pushing a stack of paperwork on the desktop to one side as his eyes drifted upwards and finally settled on his ruffled-looking partner.  
"Rough morning?" Steve asked carefully, raising a questioning eyebrow at Danny's clenched jaw as the Jersey detective perched on the corner of the desk in front of him.  
"That depends," Danny snarked as he leaned across the desk to snag the top page from the closet pile of paperwork and pulled it round to face him. "Is the Governor still insisting that we spend today and tomorrow playing babysitter to some jumped-up Kim Kardashian-type princess who only cares about what colour Bentley her daddy's going to buy her for her birthday?"

Steve frowned. "You haven't even met her," he argued reasonably, "For all you know, she could be - "

"Yeah, yeah. I know... She could a professional who's actually interested in what goes on around here day-to-day. It's got nothing to do with the fact that there's an election just around the corner."  
Danny rolled his eyes in response to the sceptical look gracing his partner's face and tapped his index finger against the top of Steve's desk to emphasise his point, "We both know that the Governor is using Five-0 to fish for votes and I, for one, would rather he do it by leaving us the hell alone so we can all get on with our jobs." He lifted the top sheet from the pile and waved it in Steve's direction, "'Affidavit' has two F's..."

"It's not like I had any choice in the matter, Danny," Steve groused as he reached forwards to snatch the report from Danny's outstretched hand. "Look, did you want something or did you just come in here to bitch about Denning and his agenda?" he asked as he roughly scored out his mistake and looked for somewhere to squeeze in the correction. "That girl's going to be here in about twenty minutes so we can go over a few things before they start filming, and I need to finish filling in that acquisition form so Denning's office can sign off on those new Tac vests."  
Steve pushed the revised paperwork to one side and pulled the stack of acquisition forms back towards the edge of his desk, rubbing his free hand over his face as he scanned what he'd written earlier.  
"I, uh... I spoke to Mary's friend, Annie, about Grace's cake last night," Steve said, reaching for his pen. Uncapping the biro, he tilted it back and forth between two fingers a few times and then bounced the transparent plastic tube against of the top sheet of the notepad to his right. "She said you can pick it up any time after four."

"Right."

Halfway through a sentence, Steve paused and then sighed. Tossing his pen aside, he propped his elbows up on his desk and brought his hands up to rub at the band of tension that had begun to wrap itself around his forehead. "Problem, Danno?" he asked tiredly, glancing sideways at his partner through the gaps in his fingers.  
"Uh, yeah... Listen, babe, I kinda need a favour." Danny confessed as he pushed himself up from his seat on the edge of Steve's desk. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started to pace along the internal window-line. "Rachel just called; her flight got changed so she won't be here to pick Grace up from school and I had planned on - "

"I'll pick Gracie up from school," Steve interrupted quickly, trying to head off his partner's semi-apologetic rant before it gathered momentum, "And then you can get her up from my place when you're done. Why don't you take a couple of hours this afternoon?"  
Recognising his paperwork was now a lost cause, Steve pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, rolling his neck to ease the tension across the back of his shoulders, "I can give Mary a call if something comes up and I'm needed here. Was there anything else?" He asked as he reached for the empty coffee mug sitting on the filing cabinet to his left and skirted out from behind his chair, nudging it closer to the desk with his hip as he walked away.

"Uh, no," Danny said, abruptly coming to a halt. Turning on his heel, he smiled and laid his hand on Steve's shoulder, squeezing it gently as he fell into step with the taller man. Crossing in front of the smart table, Danny pushed through the swinging glass door into the small break room and leaned against the counter, running a hand through his hair as he watched Steve spoon coffee granules into his cup. "Seriously, though... Thanks for letting Grace have her birthday party at your house."  
Steve shrugged a shoulder, "It didn't make sense for you to pay for the Hilton." Dumping the spoon in the sink, he wrapped both hands around his cup and turned, mimicking Danny's position leaning against the counter. "I already told you that you're both welcome any time. Why you even thought you had to ask is beyond me."  
"It's a wonder you can even function in society given the number of things that are beyond you, the correct spelling of 'affidavit' being just one of them," Danny grumbled as he pushed away from the counter and turned to face his partner, "It's called being _polite,_ Steven. You know, saying please and thank you, and - "  
"Knocking before you let yourself into someone's house?" Steve finished pointedly, raising his eyebrows over the rim of his coffee mug.

Catching a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned towards the main doors in time to see Sergeant Duke Lukela cross the threshold, closely followed by a petite brunette decked out in a delicate-looking pale pink suit. Bringing up the rear was the cameraman, a heavyset older man in a faded Def Leppard t-shirt and worn cargos. Taking a sip from his steaming mug, Steve pulled a face at the overly-bitter taste and turned, dumping the rest of it in the sink and setting his empty cup down on the counter next to it.  
"Let's get this over with," He muttered under his breath as he passed Danny and pushed through the swinging door into the main room.

"This is Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," Steve heard Duke saying as he approached the small group. "The Commander is in charge of running the Governor's task force. Commander," Duke indicated the reporter and then the cameraman, "Stephanie Rossi and Anthony Marshall."  
"Hi," Steve said, offering his hand to Anthony, "Steve McGarrett."  
Turning to Stephanie, he offered her his hand as well, his blue eyes widening in surprise when the 5-foot-nothing-in-heels reporter wrapped her hand around his wrist and pulled him down into an awkward impromptu hug, slinging her arms around his neck. "I'm a hugger," she beamed as she released Steve, casually twirling a strand of her long, dark hair around her finger as she let her eyes drift over all six feet of the former Navy Seal. Tossing her hair over her shoulder coquettishly, she smiled, her dark eyes shining with excitement. "Hi," she giggled, thrusting out her hand, "I'm Steffi."

"Uh, yeah... Hi," Steve mumbled, glancing uncomfortably at the cameraman, who responded with a long-suffering eye roll. Forcing a smile, he turned sharply on his heel, beckoning for the two visitors to follow him as he called "Thanks, Duke," over his shoulder.  
Marching towards the smart table, he glared at his partner, who was leaning against door to the break room, trying desperately to keep from laughing. Pointing a finger at Danny's chest, Steve growled warningly, "Not a word, Danno."

_Thursday, 1013 hours._

"_Welcome to the home of Five-0_," Steffi declared as she pushed through the swinging glass doors and trotted into the outer office. "_For the next two days, I'm going to go behind the scenes with the Governor's elite crime-fighting task force as they work to make our beautiful - Oh, shoot, that's not right, is it?" _Pouting, she stood on her tiptoes to look at Anthony over the camera. _"One more time, okay?"_

"Is she for real?" Kono asked Danny, watching the ditzy brunette from her position at the smart table as she animatedly continued her spiel down the hall to their right. Shaking her head in disbelief, she swiped her index finger across the screen, sending an image onto the monitors overhead. "What was the boss thinking agreeing to this?"  
"He didn't think," Danny reminded her, studying the photograph in front of them, "That's why he's currently hiding out in his office."  
He dropped his gaze back to the smart table and sighed as he ran through list of suspects from Kono's search. "Do we like anyone else for this?" He asked, "The ex-boyfriend just isn't doing it for me."

"Who isn't doing what for you, Danno?" Steve's voice asked from behind them and Kono snorted, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. "Hey, Boss," She giggled, "Good timing. Danny was just saying - "

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Kalakaua," Danny muttered, rolling his eyes at her as he turned to Steve and motioned towards the computer monitors. "We were just going over our list of suspects in the Wilson case. There's something about this guy that doesn't seem right - I dunno know what it is yet..."  
Taking a step closer, Steve folded his arms over his chest and looked up at the photo on the screen. Leaning over the smart table, he selected a video file and sent it to the monitor in front of them. Focusing his gaze on the bottom left corner of the screen, he tapped the 'play' icon.

"This was taken from one of the traffic cams on Hikimoe, right?" he asked, glancing across at Kono as they waited for Julie Wilson and their suspect to appear in the frame.  
"Yes," she nodded, her eyes glued to the back of Julie's sparkly silver dress as the young woman stumbled drunkenly in her stilettos halfway across the screen. "I tracked them as far as Halolani Street but this guy knew what he was doing; He kept his head down until they were about to turn into the alley. I wasn't able to get a decent shot of his face."

"How bad a shot are we talking here?" Danny queried, leaning forwards to rest his forearms on the edge of the smart table. "Because right now, it's the only lead we've got."  
"It's pretty bad, brah," Kono admitted as she paused the traffic cam footage. Minimising the window, she started a new search query. "The only camera on Halolani is at the far end of the street, so I had to use the editing software on Fong's computer to zoom in," she explained, her fingers flying as she typed, "The image quality wasn't great to begin with and zooming in only made it worse."  
Clicking on the file, Kono sent it to the big screen with a flick of her wrist, "I cleaned it up as best I could but, as you can see, the image quality is too poor for us to be able to run it through any of our usual databases."

"Okay, so facial recognition is out." Steve conceded, his eyes flickering across the room to where Steffi with an expectant smile on her face as she bounced excitedly in her high-heeled pumps. Feeling minute vibrations start up against his thigh, he fumbled in his pocket for his phone and glanced down at the caller ID. Seeing 'Cath' flash across the top of the screen, he smiled and started towards his office. "I have to take this. Excuse me."

"Kono," he called a few seconds later, pausing with one hand on the glass door as he glanced at her apologetically, "Could you...?"  
"Uh, yeah," Kono said, smiling weakly at Steffi, who beamed at her from across the table. "Sure thing, Boss."

_Thursday, 1058 hours._

"So the main reason we have the smart table is to allow us to build a 3D working model of our crime scene," Kono explained, trying not to look directly into the camera. Choosing a file, she brought it up on the middle overhead monitor.  
"We start by building a base model using photographs from the scene, then we have the option of bulking it out using things like videos and satellite imagery. For example, if there are people hanging around the crime scene, we'll usually try to get photos and videos from their phones so that our model covers lots of different points-of-view and is as detailed as possible. Does that make sense?" she asked, suddenly feeling acutely self-conscious as she looked at befuddled expression gracing the younger girl's face across the smart table.

"I _think_ so," Steffi said slowly, cocking her head to one side like an inquisitive Labradoodle. "You use the computer to stick together all of the photos so you have one big picture instead of lots of little separate ones. How long does something like that take?" A tiny wrinkle marred her smooth forehead as she frowned up at the model on the screen, "Like, do you have to keep everyones' phone until the model is finished?"

"Uh, no. We usually ask people to come into the office so we can transfer all the files we need there and then," Kono said, glancing up as the door to Steve's office swung open. "Hey, Boss, let me borrow your phone for a second," she demanded, holding her hand out as she saved the model she'd been using as an example and quit the application.  
Setting the handset down on top of the smart table, she tapped the screen next to it with her index finger and chose 'import' from the drop down menu. "Pretty cool, right?" she grinned, scrolling through the imported files and picking one from the list at random. Sending the photo of her boss carefully plaiting Grace's hair over to the big screen, Kono smirked and leaned back to tap Steve's bicep non-too-gently with her fist. "Do you do French braids too, brah?" she teased, ejecting his phone from the computer's system before picking it up off the tabletop and holding it out to him.

"That's classified," Steve deadpanned, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Danny in his office?" he asked, his face suddenly turning serious as he tilted his head towards the drawn blinds further down the hall, "I want to run something by him before I take another look at that footage from the traffic cam."  
"Yeah, he is," Kono said as she cleared the screen and started moving Steve's photos to the trash. "He went to see how Chin's getting on interviewing Julie's parents. They flew in from the mainland last night to formally identify the body."

Glancing up from the smart table, she watched as Steve's expression darkened momentarily.  
"Why?" she questioned, "Did you think of something?"

H50*H50*H50

_Thursday, 1129 hours._

"Justin Conrad and Julie Wilson lived together, right?" Steve called to the two women standing at the smart table as he strode out of Danny's office with the detective close on his heels. "Is it in the preliminary report?" He asked Kono as he joined them.  
"I think so," Kono said, dropping her head to quickly scan the file she'd pulled a few minutes earlier. "Uh, yeah, here it is - Julie moved into Justin's house last summer after they got engaged." Swiping her finger across the desktop, she watched as the 'missing persons' report that had been filed by Ashley Hunt filled the screen above her head. A second later, HPD's preliminary report joined it.

"So, they live together but her girlfriend - this Ashley girl she was out with - is the one who reported her missing..." Danny mused, resting his elbows on the edge of the smart table as he frowned up at the monitor. "Does anyone else think that's a little off? I mean, your fiancée goes out drinking and doesn't come home, the first thing you're gonna do when you wake up is try to find out where the hell she is and if she's okay. Right?"

"Right," Steve agreed. Rubbing hand over his mouth, he turned to Kono and asked, "Did anyone make any attempts to contact her, text messages, missed calls, social media... Anything?"

"HPD found Julie's phone in her purse when they processed the scene. There was a bunch of missed calls from Ashley but nothing from Justin." Kono confirmed, shaking her head. Scrolling down to Ashley's statement she scanned the first few lines and added, "It says here that Ashley talked to Julie a little before three A.M but there's nothing in the call log until the first missed call at a quarter after eight."

"Someone deleted the call history." Steve stated quietly. Suddenly, the penny dropped. "Did Julie have - "  
"An iPhone?" She finished. Grinning, she opened the picture the crime scene photographer had taken of Julie's purse and zoomed in on the meagre contents that were scattered over the tarmac around it. "Yeah, brah," she said, "She did."

Forehead creased in confusion, Danny stared at the screens. "Nope," he muttered a minute later as he pushed himself upright, "Sorry, I still don't get it." Gesturing towards the photograph, he looked between Steve and Kono. "Well?" he demanded, "Is someone going to explain to me how our vic having an iPhone with no call history is going to help us figure out who killed her?"

Kono smirked.  
"Phone," she ordered, turning to look at her boss as she held out her hand expectantly. "You're the only one with an iPhone," she reminded him, smiling smugly when Steve rolled his eyes and reached into his cargo pants. "Thanks, Boss," she said sweetly, turning back to the computer with her prize clutched in her hand. Beckoning Danny closer, Kono held the handset at arms length and lifted it towards the ceiling. "Look at the screen," she instructed, angling the handset until the smudges on the plastic cover glistened under the lights. "They're latent prints," she pointed to a mark near the top left corner. "You can just about make out the ridge detail right here. Whoever deleted Julie's call history would have had to touch the screen so - "

So we might be able to lift our guy's prints from Julie's phone," Danny concluded, flapping a hand at the photograph of Julie's purse. "Assuming he was dumb enough to touch it in the first place," he added as an afterthought.  
"Danny's right, Kono. We'll be lucky if we find anything to run through AFIS*," Steve agreed, studying the crime scene photograph intently. "Our guy was smart enough to keep his head down so we couldn't get a clear head shot. He knew about that, chances are he knew not to touch anything."  
"Or," Danny interjected, "He wore gloves."

"It's definitely a long shot," Steve commented, "But it's the only solid lead we've got at the moment."  
Leaning his elbows on the smart table, he sighed and closed his eyes, running the palms of his hands up over his face. "Send the phone to Fong," he decided, turning to Kono. "See if he can get anything from it."

Pocketing his phone, the former Seal stood and rolled his neck. It had been a long week with a steady stream of cases and he sighed when the vertebrae popped softly, relieving the tension across the top of his shoulders. "Someone should go talk to the fiancé, see if there's anything in the fact that he didn't try to contact her." Turning to Danny, he asked, "Did Chin say how long he was going to be?"

"Uh, yeah," Danny said, nodding, "He said he was heading back when I talked to him."

"Okay, so me and Danny will go talk to Justin. And Kono, when Chin get backs I need you to sign Julie's phone out of the evidence locker at HPD, and take it down to the crime lab for Fong to process," Steve instructed.  
Turning on his heel, he pushed through the swinging door into his office and leaned over his desk to reach for his badge. Clipping the gold shield onto the waistband of his cargo pants, he shouldered his way back into the main office.

"Ready?" Steve asked, glancing over at his partner. Seeing Danny nod, he started walking towards the exit, pausing when he didn't hear the he 'tap tap tap' of Steffi's heels on the tiled floor behind him.  
"Get a move on," he ordered, turning halfway out of the door. "You guys are with us."

_*AFIS = Automated Fingerprint Identification System._

_Thursday, 1219 hours._

"Okay," Danny declared, unbuckling his seatbelt as the Camaro pulled to the side of the road in front of Justin Conrad's tiny bungalow, "Before we go any further, there are some ground rules we need to discuss." Twisting in his seat, he waited for Steve to push himself out of the driver's seat fluidly and slam the door shut.  
"Number one," Danny counted, jabbing his index finger into the top of the centre console as he looked pointedly at the bubbly brunette and the camera. "You guys wait outside. _Number two -_ "

"But we're supposed film _everything_," Steffi argued, shifting in her seat. "How are we supposed to show our audience what goes on behind the scenes if you don't let us film?"  
"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of a way," Danny told her, reaching for the door handle. Pushing the passenger seat forward, he held the door open and motioned towards the pavement. "Ladies first."

Clambering awkwardly through the small gap between the seats, Steffi squeaked in surprise when her shoe caught on the sill and she was sent stumbling. "My Jimmy Choos!" she shrieked as Steve lunged forwards to catch her.  
"Careful," he grumbled. Wrapping a hand around her arm, he hauled her upright until he was sure she had both feet firmly on the pavement. Scowling down at Steffi's four-inch heels, he pointed at them and asked seriously, "Can you run in those?"

"Seriously?" Danny asked, staring incredulously at the former Seal as he opened his mouth to object.  
"What?" The taller man protested, "It's a valid question! What happens if someone decides to run, I'm supposed to let them get away because she can't keep up?"  
Shaking his head in disbelief, Danny span on his heel and marched off along the street towards the house, turning to glare at Steve over his shoulder. "Foot chases!" he muttered under his breath as he pushed through the gate and stomped along path towards the front door, "There aren't going to _be _any foot chases - all we're doing is talking to the guy!"

Rolling his eyes at his partner's irate mumbling, Steve jogged after him. When he reached the porch, he paused with his foot on the bottom step and turned to look at the ditzy reporter and her cameraman. "End of the line," he told them as Danny went to ring the bell, "You guys wait here."  
"But I was told - " Steffi started, her voice fading when she realised the commander wasn't going to back down. Trotting up the steps, Steve walked straight into the house through the open door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Great," Steffi sulked, scuffing the toe of her suede pump on the path's rough surface, "Now what are we supposed to do? Marcie's gonna freak out when she finds out we didn't get any of this." Huffing, she dropped onto the porch step and leaned forwards to rest her elbows on her knees, propping her head up on her palms.  
"Hey," she called, staring at the blacked-out windows of a passing Range Rover as it drove by the front of the house and continued down the street. "D'you have any smokes on you? I left my bag in the car."  
Turning back, she frowned when she couldn't see her colleague anywhere. Pushing herself upright, she brushed off the back of her pants and cocked her head to one side, listening for the cameraman's footsteps. "Anthony?"

Trotting round to the side of the house, she ground to a halt and watched as Anthony stepped over a wrought iron border into one of the bare flower beds.  
"What are you doing?" she hissed, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no-one had seen them as he pressed the camera lens against the window. "He said we weren't allowed to film."  
"He said we weren't allowed to film _inside_," the cameraman shot back, sidling closer. Straining to hear the voices through the glass, he held up a finger to shush the young woman as she went to stand next to him. "Ssshhh!" he ordered, adjusting the volume settings on his microphone, "I'm trying to get this."

Listening in on the three mens' conversation, Anthony smiled to himself and whispered, "Prime Time, here we come."

H50*H50*H50

"I'm sorry for your loss," Danny offered, shuffling forwards in the overly-soft armchair to rest his elbows on his thighs. Across the room, Justin Conrad smiled sadly and wiped at his eyes beneath the rims of his trendy square-framed glasses.  
"Thank you," he said softly, "Julie was very special to me."  
The detective smiled sympathetically. "If you have time just now, we'd like to ask you a few questions," he said, glancing over at his partner as Steve surveyed the young man in front of him curiously.

In his early twenties, Justin Conrad was tall - about Steve's height, give or take an inch - with collar-length sandy hair and a broad, muscular frame. Dressed in black boardies and a navy long sleeved shirt, he had looked intimidating when he'd answered the door and both men had stood a little straighter as they explained who they were and the reason for their visit. At the mention of his murdered fiancée's name Justin's entire demeanour had changed and he'd went from formidable to looking downright depressed in a matter of seconds.

Toying with his shirt cuff, Justin kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. "Of course," he said, "Anything I can do to help." Clearing his throat, he turned to look at the framed photograph of his fiancée on the coffee table in front of him. Picking it up, he ran his index finger lovingly over her face before he added, "I'm not sure what good its going to do though. I already gave my statement to HPD."

"We just want to go over a few things," Steve clarified, pushing away from the corner where he'd been stood leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. "You and Julie recently got engaged - is that right?"  
"Yes," Justin smiled wistfully. "Jules and I were high school sweethearts. I proposed while we were on the mainland visiting her parents - she wasn't expecting it but she said 'yes' right away."

"So you grew up with Julie. You knew what she was like," Danny pressed. "Was it normal for her to go several hours without contacting anyone?"  
Setting the photo of Julie in his lap, Justin nodded tearfully. "Julie was impulsive; That's what I loved about her - once she got an idea in her head, that was it. She wouldn't let it go and god help anyone who tried to stand in her way. When she didn't come home, I thought she was still with Ashley. I never thought..." he choked, swallowing hard against a wave of fresh tears.  
"Was there any reason for you to think that?"  
Exhaling shakily, Justin shook his head. "No," he admitted softly. "I guess I just assumed she'd had a bit too much to drink and that she was at Ashley's sleeping it off." Burying his face in his hands, he sniffed loudly and moaned, "Oh, man... that is so messed up_._"

"I understand this is difficult for you," Danny offered consolingly, "But in order for us to find the guy that did this, we need as much information as possible." Clearing his throat, the detective looked over his shoulder at his partner before turning back to the sobbing young man in front of him. "Can we talk about what happened on the night Julie went missing? In your statement, you said that you stayed at home instead of going out with the girls?"

Taking off his glasses, Justin sniffed and wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I had to be up early the next morning."  
"For work?" Danny prompted, seeing Steve taking a step forward so he could watch the young man's reactions a little more closely.  
"Yeah," he replied quickly, "I had an early meeting."

Keeping his head low, Justin glanced furtively at the two men as he pushed his glasses up over the bridge of his nose; He could feel the dark-haired man's laser-sharp eyes studying him from across the room and he kept his head down, clearing his throat awkwardly as he ran his fingers through the front of his hair.  
Slightly too short, the sleeve of Justin's shirt rode up, exposing the skin on the underside his wrist as he went to push the hair from his face. Concealed under a layer of Sudocrem, Steve could just about make out the intricate black and grey tribal tattoo that appeared to run along the length of Justin's forearm. The delicate skin over his wrist looked pink and inflamed beneath the smears of thick white ointment.

"New ink?" Steve asked casually, nodding towards the tattoo.  
"Uh, yeah," Justin mumbled, tugging his sleeve down over his hand. "Jules alway wanted one. She talked about us getting one together but I wanted to surprise her." Fidgeting with his shirt cuff, he glanced sideways towards the door before meeting Steve's eyes. "I made an appointment for next month but they phoned last week to say they'd had a cancellation and the appointment was mine if I wanted it."

"It looks awesome, man," Steve commented, "They did a good job with it from what I can see." Clapping his hands, Steve rubbed the palms together and smiled briefly. "I think that's everything we need," he told Justin as he caught Danny's eye and tilted his head in the direction of the door.  
While his partner pushed himself out of the low chair, Steve reached out to shake Justin's hand. "We'll be in touch if there's anything else."

'What are you doing?' Danny questioned silently, eyeing Steve suspiciously over his shoulder as they walked in single file along the dark, narrow hallway towards the front door. Catching the former Seal's subtle head shake, the detective rolled his eyes and turned back to the front, waiting as Justin fumbled with the security chain and then stepped back to hold the door open.  
"After you, babe," he said, motioning for the taller man to go on ahead of him. Following Steve over the threshold into the midday sun, Danny groaned audibly when his partner stopped abruptly at the top of the porch steps and spun on his heel.

"Hey," Steve called, snapping his fingers as he turned back to look at Justin, "What was the name of that place you went to?"  
He smiled encouragingly when the young man hovered uncertainly in the doorway. "I just remembered," he said, "A friend of mine is moving here from the mainland and he's looking for someone to finish off his sleeve."

H50*H50*H50

"He's lying to us," Steve spat, striding down the path towards the street while Danny lagged several feet behind. "There's no way that tattoo is a week old."  
"Slow down for a second, would you?!" the detective snapped, breaking into a jog to catch up with his partner's ridiculously long-striding legs. "What makes you think he's lying?"  
Huffing, Steve reached the end of the path and roughly shoved the metal gate open. "I have tattoos, Danny," he ground out as he stepped out onto the pavement. "I know what a week-old tattoo looks like."  
"What's your point, Steven?" Danny asked snippily, throwing his hands on the air. "Those of us who find absolutely no pleasure in voluntarily being stabbed by a needle a thousand times need you to explain to them exactly where it is you're going with this."

"The skin around Justin's tattoo is still inflamed," Steve pointed out, "Most likely, it's because the artist used shading to make the design stand out; White ink doesn't take as easily as black so most artists tend to use more pressure and go over the area several times. If the skin is still inflamed, the tattoo is 24 hours old. Max."  
"Okay," Danny conceded, "So he's lying about the tattoo. The question is why?"  
Steve huffed impatiently. "He's hiding something."

"Hey, guys!" Steffi called brightly, waving as the two men stopped beside her. "Did you get anything?"  
Breathing slightly faster than normal, she'd ditched her suit jacket and was fanning her face with both hands as she sat on the curb in front of the Camaro. Anthony was leaning against the passenger-side door looking as cool as a cucumber despite the 100-degree heat.

"What were you doing just now?" Steve asked, eying the reporter's sweaty face suspiciously as she struggled to her feet and twisted awkwardly to brush dust off the back of her pants.  
"Who, me?" Steffi asked innocently, bending down to scoop her jacket up off the ground. "What was I doing? I was, uh..." Blushing, she ducked her head sheepishly.

Steve frowned at her and then sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just get in the car," he told her tersely as he turned away and stepped off the curb.  
"Where are we going now?" Steffi asked, her eyes shining with excitement as she watched the former Seal skirt around the front of the car. Folding himself into the driver's seat, Steve slammed the door shut behind him.  
The noise was loud enough to make Steffi wince. "Did I do something?" she asked, nervously playing with her hair as she turned to the blonde detective standing beside her.

"Don't worry about him, babe," Danny told the young reporter soothingly as he reached for the handle on the passenger door and leaned in to push the front seat forwards. Stepping back to let Anthony squeeze through the gap into the back seat, he smiled at Steffi and cocked a thumb at his partner, joking, "When we get back to the office, Super Seal over there is going straight into 'time out'."  
Holding the door open, he motioned towards the back seat. "C'mon," he said, "We've got a lead."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I said earlier that any medical facts should be taken with a pinch of salt. Please add science-y stuff to that - I'm making most of it up as I go along. If its wrong, I apologise. Let me know so I can try to correct it. :)

**A/N2: **Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and/or reviewed this story - it means a lot. And a massive thank you has to go to Irishlass07 for putting up with my continual tinkering. This would have been a very different (read: boring and predictable) story if it wasn't for her amazing comments and suggestions - having someone to bounce ideas back and forth with has been a massive help.

**A/N3:** Grace has just turned 8.

_I'm really sorry for leaving this so long without an __update. RL has been a bitch recently but I'm finally back in the right frame of mind to continue writing. Thanks for sticking with me and thanks again to Irishlass07 for her amazing beta skills.  
I've tinkered with the formatting - Chapters 1 and 2 are now Chapter 1. I've tagged what was Chapter 4 onto the end of my new Chapter 2. _

* * *

_Thursday, 1321._

Chin, what have you got?" Steve called as he pushed through the outer doors into the office. Leaning over the smart table, the Lieutenant glanced up as the former Seal approached. "Hey," he said, turning back to the computer, "So, it turns out that Justin was telling the truth when he told you that there's a tattoo place on Kuhio Avenue." Swiping his finger across the desktop, he sent his search results onto the monitor overhead. "There's a problem, though," he added as he took a step back and looked up at the map filling the screens. Glancing up at the red pins dotting Waikiki, Danny frowned. "There's more than one studio?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest as he looked to the cousins for confirmation.  
"Yeah, brah," Kono nodded, "Four on Kuhio Avenue and the same again within walking distance. Justin could have gone to any of them. If he even went to one of them in the first place."  
Taking a step closer, Steve mirrored Danny's pose. "Are those the only studios on the island?" he asked, looking at Chin across the smart table.  
"No," the Hawaiian replied, adjusting the zoom until all of Oahu was visible on the screen. "The majority of them are in Waikiki but there are a few out towards Pearl City. If you expand the search to look even further afield, there are places on the North Shore and in Kailua, too."

"So, where the hell do we start?" Danny questioned, lacing his fingers behind his head as he watched the tiny red dots re-appear on the screen above his head.  
"That's a good question, brah," Chin said as he turned to look at McGarrett. "How do you want to do this?" he asked, watching the former Seal lean his elbows on the edge of the smart table. Propping his head up on one hand, Steve tapped his index finger against the screen as he studied the spread of red dots. "It makes sense to start in Waikiki," he decided. "It'll be quicker if we split the locations between us."

"I'll take Kono and head out towards Diamond Head," Chin offered, pulling his car keys from the pocket of his jeans. "We'll go to South Shore Ink and work our way round to Rock Star Tattoos and Piercings."  
"That would be good. Thanks, man," Steve said gratefully. "If you can print me off a list of names and addresses, Danny and I will start on Ala Moana Boulevard and meet you somewhere in the middle." Pushing himself upright, he glanced up at the map one last time. "Any questions?" he asked.  
"What happens if Kuhio turns out to be a bust?" Kono asked quietly, catching her boss' eye when he turned to look at his team around the smart table.  
Steve shrugged. "We work our way around the island until we find what it is we're looking for."

_Thursday, 1406 hours._

"Him?" the heavyset tattoo artist asked as he leaned over to squint at the photograph Steve was holding. Shaking his head, he snapped on a fresh pair of latex gloves and started smearing Vaseline over the purple stencil on the inside of his customer's wrist. "Sorry, brah," he shrugged, "I never seen that guy before." _  
_  
"Well, that was a waste of time," Danny grumbled, screwing his face up against the bright Hawaiian sunshine as he followed his partner out onto Ala Moana Boulevard. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve on his shirt. "Where to next?"  
Steve checked his list. "The next place is called 'Custom Tattooing By Adam'," he told Danny, flattening the sheet of paper over the top of his thigh so he could score a line through the names 'Victorian Tattoo' and 'Sacred Art Tattoo'. "It's just around the corner."  
He shoved the list back in his pocket. "Hey, where are you going?" he called, frowning at Danny's retreating back as his partner started walking in the wrong direction with Anthony and an increasingly wilted-looking Steffi following close behind.  
"The car's this way," the detective pointed out, taking a few backwards steps as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "On Ala Wai. Where you parked it."  
"But it'll take us less than two minutes to walk," Steve argued, genuinely confused, "I don't understand why we need to go back for the car."  
Danny scowled. "It's hot."  
"Okay," the former Seal acknowledged, "So..?"  
"It's 110 degrees in the shade," the Jersey native snapped, "My car has air conditioning and - What are you doing?" he demanded, stopping abruptly in the middle of the pavement and throwing his hands in the air in exasperation when Steve pulled his cell phone from his pocket, glanced at the caller ID and then started walking towards the car without a word.

"McGarrett," Steve barked, answering the call as he side-stepped his partner. "Yeah, we'll be there," he assured the person on the other end of the line before hanging up. "We need to go," he said, shoving his phone back in his pocket, "That was Fong - he's about to start printing Julie's phone."  
"Hey," Danny called as the taller man marched off along Ala Moana Boulevard towards the canal, "Hey! What about this?"  
Steve looked back. "What?"  
"What do you mean '_what'?" _Danny asked mulishly, wiping his face on his shirt. He pointed up at the red and white 'Sacred Art Tattoo' sign on the side of the building. "I'm sweating my ass off trawling the streets of Waikiki because we're in the middle of looking for a tattoo studio that may, or may not, have been visited by a guy _you _think lied to us about the death of his girlfriend. Any of that ring a bell with you, Rambo?"  
"Rambo was in the army, Danny," the former Seal grumbled halfheartedly as he glanced down at his watch. "Look, we weren't going to get round everywhere on our list today anyways," he reasoned, "I'll ask Chin and Kono to take over while we go talk to Fong and we can head back to HQ once we're done."

Narrowing his eyes, Danny pointed at Steffi and Anthony, who stood a few feet behind him in the shade of one of the giant palms that lined both sides of the street. "And pray tell, Steven," he drawled, looking at his partner expectantly, "What do you plan on doing with them when we get to back to HQ? You can't just leave them there until Chin and Kono turn up so don't even think about suggesting it." Folding his arms over his chest, he cocked his head to the side and waited.  
Steve frowned. Running the tip of his tongue over his teeth, his brow furrowed in frustration until - "Duke!" he cried when the solution finally came to him, "I'll ask Duke to talk to them about... I dunno, how HPD liaises with Five-0 or something."  
"Duke?" Danny questioned warily. Unable to think of a second options, the detective exhaled and ran both hands over the top of his hair. "Okay," he shrugged.  
"Okay?" Steve echoed, slightly surprised by the lack of argument as Danny strode past him. "Okay," he muttered under his breath, "Good." Nodding sharply, he turned to follow his partner up Ala Moana Boulevard towards the canal.

Despite the heat, the sidewalk was packed with tourists and Steve, Danny, Steffi and Anthony were forced onto the narrow patch of grass in front of the Finnish Consulate so they could pass a long winding queue of people waiting to board a bright orange and yellow tram car, its brightly-coloured signs promising them the 'Ultimate' Hawaiian experience.  
Veering off to the right before the bridge over the Ala Wai Canal, they followed a narrow winding path down onto the canal bank and strolled along the pavement in the shade of the yellow-flowered trees that lined the road. Bright pockets of sunlight burst out from under the canopy of leaves above them and Danny squinted against the glare, bringing his arm to his face to shield his eyes. "What's with the face?" he asked, noting Steve's puzzled frown when they stopped next to the car.  
"I don't have a face, Danny," the Seal grumbled, reaching into his pocket for the key. He unlocked the doors and reached for the driver's side handle, pausing with one foot resting on the sill. "Okay, fine!" he burst out suddenly, glowering at his partner over the roof of the Camaro, "You agreed with me, okay? It makes me nervous when you agree with me."  
Danny stared at him. "Okay," he conceded slowly, "Let's assume for one minute that I did actually agree with you – why, exactly, does that make you nervous?"  
"The last time you agreed with me, you strapped a guy to the hood of your car," Steve hissed, glancing warily in Steffi's direction. "And then you drove him around the streets of Honolulu like that."  
Danny blinked. "The crime lab has air-conditioning," he said pointedly as he stepped off the curb. He paused to look along the street both ways. "I agreed with you because its hot outside and the _crime lab_ has _air-conditioning_. And just so we're clear, this right here," he motioned between the two of them, "Does not mean I agree with whatever crazy plan you've currently got floating around in that rationality-free zone you call a brain."  
Steve pouted. "Why do you always assume I - "  
"Because I know you!" Danny retorted, gripping the handle on the passenger door, "You get this look on your face and the next thing I know, I'm being shot at!"

Sweltering in her long-sleeved blouse and heavy cotton pants despite the cooling breeze coming up the canal from Mamala Bay, Steffi whined audibly. "Oh, my God," she wailed to Anthony, tugging her shirt away from her sweat-dampened skin, "Why can't we just get in the car already? It's like a million degrees out here and they're standing about arguing like an old married couple." Huffing impatiently, she twisted her long dark hair into a messy pile and held it in place with one hand. Fanning her face with the other hand, she let her gaze wander until she met the commander's eye over the top of the Camaro.  
"Is there a problem?" he asked her tersely.  
Steffi stilled. "Uh, no," she stuttered, her eyes wide and slightly fearful as she looked back at the irate Navy Seal, "I was just..."  
Swallowing hard under Steve's penetrating stare, she let her hands drop down to her sides and shrugged awkwardly. Apparently her cutesy routine had reached its limit with the Five-0 leader.  
"Um... Shotgun?" she called lamely.

_Thursday, 1427 hours._

"I can't believe you made me sit in the back seat," Danny muttered mutinously as he pushed through the main door into the air-conditioned lobby of the building that housed HPD's crime lab. "In my own car."  
"What did you expect me to do, Danno?" Steve asked tiredly, "She kept going on about how she was two seconds away from passing out. If you want to get technical about, she did call shotgun." He strode across the foyer and stopped in front of the bank of elevators along the back wall. Pressing the 'up' button, he stood back. "You're being over-sensitive," he added, watching as the numbers on the digital screens above each set of doors climbed and dropped.  
"I'm over-sensitive?" the Jersey native snarked, "You think I'm being over-sensitive?"  
"Yeah," Steve shrugged, "A little bit." He glanced to the right when a quiet 'ding' signalled the arrival of the elevator. "Down here," he said, pointing towards the open doors at the far end of the wall.  
"Well, you know what?" Danny hissed as he followed his partner into the elevator car, "I'm _not. _So you can just stop right there, Super Seal, because the last time we had this little chat, I ended up getting _shot._"  
"You got shot before we even had that conversation," the former Seal reminded him coolly as he reached forward to hold the door for Anthony and Steffi. Leaning back against the cool metal of the handrail, he folded his arms across his chest and let his head drop back against the wall with a quiet 'thud'. "And I said I was sorry so just let it go, okay? Can you do that?"  
Danny huffed. "Fine," he relented, shoving his hands in his pockets, "But just so you know, my acceptance of your so-called apology is officially _still_ pending."

H50*H50*H50

The lab Charlie Fong worked in was brightly lit and smelled of antiseptic with just a hint of pine-scented air freshener. The room was large and had been split into sections, with individual workstations in the centre and counters filled with expensive-looking equipment lining three of the walls. At the back of the room, a young Asian man in a white lab coat was sitting on a stool studying one of two computer monitors that sat side-by-side on the worktop in front of him.  
"Hey," Steve called as he skirted around an empty workstation, "Have you made a start on those prints?"  
"Not yet," the man said slowly, concentrating as he made an adjustment to the image on the computer screen. "I thought I'd have another go at cleaning up the screen shot Kono sent over while I was waiting for you guys." He glanced up when the Navy Seal leaned against the desk beside him, cocking his head in confusion when he spotted the older man with the camera balanced on his shoulder and the young woman in pink who was hovering awkwardly behind Detective Williams.  
"Steffani Rossi and Anthony Marshall," Danny supplied. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stepped closer to the desk to squint at the burry image. "It's election season," he added by way of explanation.  
"Ah..." Charlie nodded in understanding. Pushing up from his seat, he smiled at Five-0's young charge. "Hi," he said, reaching out to shake her hand, "Charlie Fong."  
"Steffi," the reporter replied brightly. Releasing Charlie's hand, she gazed round the room in wide-eyed wonder. "So what exactly is it you do here?"

"Charlie didn't get a hug." Leaning with his back against one of the empty workstations, Danny watched as Steffi smiled and batted her lashes at the young lab technician.  
Glancing up from his watch, Steve frowned. "What has that got to do with anything?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.  
Danny rolled his eyes. "For someone who worked in Naval Intelligence, you can be remarkably obtuse, you know that?"  
"Obtuse?" Steve repeated indignantly. "I'm not _obtuse,"_ he argued, pulling a face at the blond detective.  
"You kinda are," Danny shrugged, shoving his hands back in his pockets. "How the hell you managed to convince Catherine to be your girlfriend, I'll never know," he added, "You obviously don't have a clue when it comes to women and flirting."  
"She's not my girlfriend," Steve corrected, pointedly ignoring Danny's dig about Steffi flirting with him.

"So you're like Abby Sciuto," the two men heard the young woman say to Charlie, "You know, from that TV show, NCIS?"  
"This is ridiculous," Steve muttered, checking his watch once more. "We're on a tight schedule here, Charlie," he called impatiently, pushing himself up from the desk, "Could we move things along a little bit?"  
"Uh, yeah," Charlie said quickly, "Sure. Sorry..." His white lab coat billowed out behind him as he strode back to his workstation and he pulled his stool closer, and reached for his keyboard. "As I was saying earlier, I had another go at cleaning up that still from your traffic cam footage," he explained, "To get a decent look at your guy's face, I had to zoom in and remove the digital noise from the background. Once I sharpened the image I tried to correct some of the pixelation and, well..."  
Charlie tapped the 'enter key to bring his computer of out 'sleep' mode and the blurry image he'd been working when they'd arrived filled the screen. "This is the best I could do," he shrugged apologetically, swivelling on his chair to look up at Steve and Danny. "Sorry, guys."  
Their suspect's face was little more than a mass of pixels, his features so blurred that they resembled a greyish-white mask. Sighing in disappointment, Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. "Okay," he conceded, "That's out. What about the phone?"  
"I have it right here," The lab technician said, producing a manila envelope from one of the drawers under his desk. He pulled a pair of gloves from the open box on his desk and slipped them on before sliding Julie's iPhone out onto the worktop, studying the glass screen through the plastic evidence bag. "Cyanoacrylate fuming is probably going to be our best bet," he decided, pushing up from his seat, "I need to go grab a few things before we get started."

"Okay," Charlie called a minute or so later, setting his supplies and Julie's iPhone down near the edge of the counter that ran the length of the wall. "Come on over. I just need to put a few drops of methylcyanoacrylate in the fuming chamber and then we're all set."  
Standing behind Danny, the petite reporter was forced onto her tiptoes to see what was going on over Danny's shoulder.  
"Excuse me?" Steffi cut in, smiling sweetly when the lab technician turned to look at her, "What's methylcylate?" Her tongue tripped over the unfamiliar word.  
"It's Methyl-cyano-acrylate," Charlie explained, smiling patiently as he broke it down for the bubbly reporter, "You probably know it better as 'Superglue'."

"Superglue?" Steffi parroted, staring at the tiny red and white tube Charlie was holding in amazement. "Really? That's so cool!" she exclaimed, her dark eyes shining with excitement, "What do you use the Superglue for?"  
Charlie beckoned her closer and turned back to the fuming chamber. "Come over here," he instructed, squeezing a few drops of glue into an aluminium tray, "It's easier if I show you."  
Steffi beamed. "Excuse me," she chirped happily as she tried to squeeze through the small gap between the two standing Five-0 members. Twisting so that she didn't elbow Steve in the stomach as she passed, she gasped when her foot slipped on the tiled floor and, once again, she was sent stumbling. Reaching out to break her fall, her hand connected with the items Charlie had set on top of the counter and she gasped in horror as she watched the evidence bag containing Julie's iPhone - and Five-0's only viable lead – slip over the edge of the counter. Strong hands grabbed her as Charlie lunged for the phone but the plastic evidence bag slipped through the lab tech's fingers and it hit the floor, a series of cracks erupting across the iPhone's glass screen on impact.  
Tears pricked behind her eyes and she pressed both hands to her mouth.

"I'm _really_ sorry."

* * *

_Thursday, 1449 hours._

"I'm really sorry," Steve heard Steffi gasp as he hauled her upright. Releasing his grip on her arm, he closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, exhaling slowly through his mouth. "How bad is it?" he demanded, turning to look at Charlie Fong as the younger man examined the damaged iPhone through the plastic evidence bag.  
Charlie shrugged non-committally. "The glass is chipped," he told the Five-0 leader, gently running his thumb over the cracked screen, "We could end up with a larger number of candidates than we expected if the positions of any of the chips coincide with the location of the ridge characteristics on the prints."  
Danny frowned. "Okay," he said, clearing his throat, "I didn't understand a word of that. Could we maybe try that again in English? Please?"  
"AFIS works by identifying patterns in the print and comparing them to the records they have stored on their databases," Fong explained, holding the evidence bag up to the fluorescent tube light over his head, "With partial prints where the patterns are incomplete, the examiner has two options: One, they can guess the pattern type and run the risk of the candidate not making the list for comparison because the information they entered was incorrect or two, they can enter the partial print as a 'multiple type' and come back with a larger number of results because the search criteria isn't as specific."  
"Great," Danny muttered sarcastically, "So, in other words, we're no closer to solving this case than we were first thing this morning."

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. "Options?" he questioned, running his thumbnail over his lower lip distractedly.  
"We have two options," Charlie told him, setting the phone down in the middle of the counter, "The first is we run with whatever partial prints I can lift off the screen in the condition it's in just now. The other option is I try to put the screen back together." Indicating the plastic evidence bag, he continued, "It's still sealed so all of the chips from the screen will be in the bottom of that bag. I can try to replace the glass fragments but there's no guarantee that we'll get a completed pattern. We could still end up with a partial print at the end of it."  
Feeling Steve go tense with anger beside him, Danny twisted his hand in the material of his partner's sleeve. He ignored the warning glare the Seal threw at him. "How long would that take?" the detective asked, gesturing towards Julie's phone with his free hand, "Approximately?"  
Charlie looked down at the damaged screen. "If I start now and stay late tonight, I could probably have something for you by late tomorrow morning," he said. He glanced warily at Steve. "Would that work for you?"  
"It'll have to," Steve told him bluntly, "Call me when you have something." With that, he yanked his arm out of Danny's grasp and marched towards the door, slamming it shut behind him.

H50*H50*H50

"Where are you going?" Danny yelled, watching his partner storm down the corridor towards the lift lobby. "Steve!"  
Ignoring the Jersey native, Steve shoved the emergency exit door next to the elevators so hard that the sound of metal colliding with concrete echoed along the carpeted corridor. At the other end of the hallway Danny winced and cursed under his breath. Watching the Seal disappear through the door, the detective cursed again and broke into a run, taking the steps two at time as he raced to catch up with his wayward partner.  
"Hey," he called, grabbing at Steve's arm as he caught up with the taller man just outside the main doors. "Hey!"  
"What?" Steve growled, whipping round. Glaring at his partner, he turned and jerked his arm away. When he reached the Camaro, he roughly pulled the door open, folded himself into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut behind him. Danny sighed and reached for the passenger-side handle. Pulling the door open, he ducked down to look at his partner. "Could you maybe not take your temper out on my car?"  
Steve scowled. "Get in the car, Danny," he ordered, turning the key in the ignition.  
Danny blinked. "What?"

Steve shifted into 'drive' and revved the engine. "Either get in the car or shut the door. You've got five seconds. Five… Four… Three... Two…"  
"You need help," the detective told his partner seriously as he dropped into the passenger seat beside him and closed the door. "Serious help, from a professional. I have the number of a therapist - I want you to take it."  
Steve gunned the engine and the Camaro's tyres squealed in protest, leaving long black skid marks on the light grey road surface when he peeled out of the crime lab's parking lot. Moving almost automatically, Danny checked the wing mirror on his side. He sighed in relief when he saw that the road behind them was clear.  
"Okay," Danny declared after several minutes of tense silence, "I'm just gonna come out and say it." He twisted in his seat. "What the hell is wrong with you, you Neanderthal animal?" he exploded, glaring at his partner, "You don't just drive off and leave someone stranded! I mean, Jesus, Steve…"  
"Trust me," Steve told him, chuckling humorlessly, "You wouldn't have liked the alternative."  
"Denning's going to have a field day when he finds out - you know that, right?" the detective questioned, "Somehow, I can't see him being overly sympathetic after you explain to him why you went off on one and scarred that poor girl for life."

"She destroyed evidence, Danny!" the former Seal snarled, jabbing his index finger at the dashboard, "Our entire investigation could be compromised because of her goddamn shoes."  
"They were Jimmy Choo's," Danny pointed out, rolling his eyes when Steve scowled at him. Shifting in his seat, he cleared his throat. "But that's the not the point. Look, I know you don't want to hear this right now, but you're pinning far too much hope on this phone being the piece of evidence that solves this case. There was never any guarantee that we were going to find anything."  
Steve grimaced. "You're not helping,"  
Danny shrugged. "I wasn't trying to," he clarified, "Trying to help would imply that I actually care about the impact your little tantrum is going to have on our careers once Denning's done ripping Five-0 to shreds."

The rest of the ride passed in silence with the Jersey native gazing out the window at the familiar scenery until Steve eventually pulled the Camaro into the parking lot outside the Iolani Palace.  
"She's not worth it, Steve," the detective said quietly, glancing at his friend over the center console, "Denning's looking for any excuse to shut us down again. Don't let this girl give him one."

_Thursday, 1534 hours._

"Uncle Steve!" Grace squealed in excitement as she spotted her adopted uncle leaning against the passenger door of his dark blue truck. Her signature pigtails bounced as she trotted down the steps in front of her school and she launched herself at the former Seal, wrapping her small arms tightly around his neck.  
"Hi, Gracie." Steve said, feeling the black cloud that had been hovering over his head lift as he kneeled down to catch her. "Did you have a good day, sweetheart?" he asked, reaching out to hold Grace's overly-large backpack as she slipped the shoulder straps down over her arms.  
"Uhuh," Grace said earnestly as she clambered up into the cab and plonked herself down on the middle seat. "Miss Casey made meringues and she let me pick the colour. It was awesome," she exclaimed happily, swinging her legs back and forth against the seat cushion.  
Steve leaned into the cab and set Grace's bag down at her feet. "That does sound pretty awesome," he agreed as he reached across to help her with her seatbelt. "So what colour did you choose?" he asked, "I'm gonna say... Pink?"

"Nope," the little girl giggled, "Kailani wanted pink but Miss Casey said it was up to me 'cause I got an A-plus on my homework and I chose blue."  
"An A-plus, huh?" Steve echoed, holding his hand up for Grace to high-five, "Does that mean we're stopping at Kamekona's on the way back to the house?"  
Grace nodded enthusiastically. "You promised," she reminded him, "You said if I got an A on my homework we could go for shave ice and I got an A-_plus_."  
"I did?" Steve questioned, eying the little girl skeptically. "Are you sure?"  
"Uncle Steeeeeve!" she scolded him halfheartedly as a fresh torrent of giggles sent her rocking forward against her safety belt.  
The Seal held his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay!" he relented, flashing the little girl a genuine smile as he pushed himself back out of the cab. Resting a hand on the roof of his truck, he bent down to speak to his adopted niece. "Hey, Gracie," he said quietly, "I need to go see Kono and Uncle Chin real quick before we go to Waiola. I'll take you to your mom's afterwards so you can get your stuff, okay?"  
"Okay," Grace shrugged happily. "Can we go swimming later?"

_Thursday, 1555 hours._

Kono looked up when her boss pushed through the glass door into HQ and ushered Grace into the outer office. "Hi, Grace," she called, smiling at the young girl as she approached the smart table, "I didn't think we were going to see you until tomorrow."  
"There was a slight change of plan," Steve told her, bumping the young girl's backpack further up onto his shoulder. "Rachel's flight got changed and Danny's out running some errands for Gracie's party."  
Kono grinned. "Well, I guess someone has to make sure you stay out of trouble when Danny's not around," she teased good-naturedly, winking at Grace.  
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kono," Steve deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the rookie. Turning to his adopted niece, he nudged her with his hip. "Go get started on your homework," he instructed, letting her backpack slip down over his arm as he chivvied her towards his office, "I'll be in once I'm done talking to Kono and Uncle Chin, okay?"

"So," Kono said innocently as the door to her boss's office swung shut. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she fought to keep her tone casual. "How did you get on at the crime lab?"  
Glancing up from the smart table, Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Something tells me you already know full well how it went," he grumbled, dropping his head back down to the computer screen and moving an old file to the trash.  
"Yeah, brah," Kono grinned. "Duke told me. I can't believe you drove off and left her there," she jabbed Steve's arm with her fist, "More to the point, I can't believe Danny actually let you."  
Steve scowled at her. "I _am_ capable of making decisions without having to ask Danny's permission – you do realize that?"  
"Yeah, I guess," Kono shrugged, still grinning, "But – "

"What did you and Chin come up with?" Steve interrupted, quickly changing the subject.  
Rolling her eyes at her boss' lack of subtlety, the rookie leaned over the smart table and started typing keywords into the search box at the top of the screen.  
"We found the studio Justin went to," she revealed, selecting the file she had been looking for. Sending the video onto the overhead monitors, she tapped the 'play' icon and checked the time stamp in the bottom left corner of the screen. "This is from one of the CCTV cameras at 'Electric Paradise Tattoo' on Kalakaua – yes, I know – Avenue. They operate on a first come, first served basis - you turn up when they open, they take your name and tell you what time to come back at. Justin's 'appointment' was at 10:25."  
"So he not only lied about having his appointment brought forward, he lied about having one in the first place," Steve said, watching Justin Conrad push through the door into the studio and start to flip through the racks of flash art designs that lined the back wall. "Does he look nervous to you?" he asked, frowning up at the screen when the video showed the young man glancing furtively at the CCTV camera over his shoulder.  
Kono snorted. "Yeah, Boss, he does," she agreed, "But he has a good reason to be." Winding the footage on, she let her index finger hover over the 'play' button until - "There!" She paused the video as one of the studio assistants appeared with the stencil for Justin's tattoo. "Cody – that's the guy who resized the stencil – told me he had a - shall we say _disagreement_ - with one of the artists over the placement of Justin's new tattoo."

Kono minimized the video player and selected a second file, opening it in a new window. "This was taken from the CCTV camera above the artist's workstation," she explained, inching the time bar across the screen until Justin followed an older bearded man into the frame. Standing back, she watched the two men arguing on the screen, Justin's movements becoming more and more agitated until, eventually, the tattoo artist shrugged and reached for the young man's arm, turning it so that the underside of Justin's wrist was facing the camera.  
Kono hit 'pause'. "Apparently Justin's cat took exception to being forced to stay outside the night before he got inked," she said wryly as she snapped a screen shot and zoomed in, centering the frame on the jagged red scratch marks that marred the pale skin on Justin's forearm.  
Steve frowned. "Justin doesn't have a cat," he told her, studying the image on the screen carefully, "Danny's allergic - he would have said something."

"That's what we thought," Chin chimed in as he strolled out of his office and came to stand at the smart table next to his cousin, "So I called Max and asked him to take a look at our vic's hands. We should know within the next hour or so."  
Steve nodded grimly. "Good work, guys," he told the cousins, pushing away from the smart table, "Let me know what he comes back with. I'll be in my office."

H50*H50*H50

"Where is he?" Steffi demanded as she stormed through the main door into Five-0's outer office and stopped in front of the smart table. Tapping her Jimmy Choo-clad foot against the tiled floor, she folded her arms across her chest and looked at Kono expectantly. "I _said_, where. Is. He_?_"  
Kono glanced up from the computer screen. "If you mean Steve, he's in his office," she said coolly, taking in the petite reporter's flushed face and clenched fists, "But I wouldn't go in there just now if I were you. He's kinda in the middle of something."  
Steffi scowled at her and then turned on her heel. Marching past the taller woman, she headed straight for the commander's office.  
"Suit yourself, then," Kono muttered under her breath. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to the smart table, "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Raised voices coming from outside his office had both Steve and Grace looking up from the young girl's algebra workbook. Straightening from where he'd been leaning over his niece's shoulder while he helped with her math homework, he spotted Steffi storming through the foyer toward the smart table where Kono was working and groaned audibly.  
"Who's that?" Grace asked curiously, peering through the glass door at the glamorous stranger, "She's really pretty."  
"The governor asked her to work with us for a few days," Steve told her tiredly, dropping the pencil he'd borrowed on the desk next to the open workbook, "I need to go deal with her. Do you think you can work through the last few problems on your own?"  
"I think so," Grace nodded, reaching for her exercise book. Pulling it closer to the edge of the desk, she bent over the open page, her brow furrowing as she started to work her way through the problem in front of her.  
"I'll just be outside," Steve told her, striding towards the door, "If you get stuck, just leave that question and move onto the next one. We can go over it later."

H50*H50*H50

"You!" Steffi rounded on Steve the moment the dark-haired man stepped out of his office. Her dark eyes flashed angrily and she jabbed a finger at his chest as she snarled, "Where the hell do you get off acting like I deserved to be left stranded in the middle of Pearl City?"  
Steve pushed her hand away. "Don't touch me," he warned. "My entire investigation could have been compromised because of - "  
"It was an _accident_," the reporter snapped, "And you just couldn't wait to use it against me, could you? Forget the judge, the jury and the executioner – you're just an asshole."  
Standing well within earshot, Kono cringed at the barbed insult on her boss's behalf. Risking glancing up from the smart table, she caught Steve's eye and cleared her throat awkwardly. "So I'm gonna go, give you guys some privacy," she mumbled, pushing away from the smart table. Spinning on her heel, the rookie quickly disappeared into the sanctuary of her office.

"You know," Steve commented, looking pointedly at Steffi's designer high-heeled pumps, "You may dress like a reporter but, in reality, you're just a spoilt brat who needs to grow up and realize that her actions have consequences. I don't, for one minute, believe that you're as dumb as you want people to think."  
"You just don't like that I made you look bad," Steffi retorted childishly, putting her hands on her hips, "Your ego obviously can't handle it."  
"This has nothing to do with my ego," Steve snarled, slamming the palm of his hand against the edge of the smart table, "This is about Julie Wilson and her family - They're the victims in all of this, not you. You hide behind your little cutesy routine and play the victim card, but the truth is you're so caught up in your own deluded sense of self-importance that you don't realize the effect your actions [are going to] have on the people around you."  
Recoiling at the commander's outburst, Steffi stared up at him. Standing in shocked silence, she could feel tears building behind her eyes and her lower lip began to quiver ominously as she sniffled, fighting to keep her tears at bay.  
"Do you know what the saddest part of all of this is?" Steve asked quietly as the young woman ducked her head to swipe at the wetness on her cheeks. "It's that you don't even seem to care. Try, just for one second, to put yourself in Frank and Cheryl Wilson's shoes. Their daughter - their only child - is dead and they want answers. "  
"Then," a vaguely familiar voice interrupted from the foyer behind him, "Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"

Steve whipped round. "Max?" he questioned, recognizing the island's quirky medical examiner. "What are you doing here?"  
"I have the results from the tests you requested," the ME told him, waving a brown A4 envelope in the Seal's direction. "Lieutenant Kelly said you required them urgently."  
"I do," Steve replied honestly, "But you could have phoned. You didn't need to come all this way."  
"I don't trust phones," Max said seriously. Seemingly oblivious to the uncomfortable silence that followed, the doctor cocked his head to one side and held up the results. "Shall we?"  
"Uh, yeah… Sure. " Motioning for the ME to join him, Steve turned back to Steffi and lowered his voice. "I need to get back to work," he told her coolly, " We'll finish this later. Until then, I suggest you stay out of my way – For everyone's sake."  
Sniffing quietly, Steffi nodded and ducked her head, scrubbing the heel of her hand under her nose. Wiping at her eyes, the young reporter turned on her heel and ran, her quiet sobs echoing in the high-ceilinged office as she pushed through the swinging glass doors and disappeared along the corridor outside.

"I'm sorry," Max interjected solemnly, catching a glimpse of the young woman's tear-stained face, "I didn't mean to interrupt."  
"You didn't," Steve reassured him tiredly. Rubbing a hand over his face, the Seal rested a hip on the edge of the smart table and gestured toward the envelope in the ME's hand. "Please tell me you found something?"


End file.
